


Day 25 -- Floors

by MelayneSeahawk



Series: Blanket Forts 2006 [25]
Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-06
Updated: 2007-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-08 03:06:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelayneSeahawk/pseuds/MelayneSeahawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the morning after the moon</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 25 -- Floors

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: http://community.livejournal.com/blanketforts/111181.html

Waking up the morning after a moon is never easy, Remus reflects as he slowly comes to. Whether he's spent the night locked in a cellar or shed, or just returned to the Shack after a night in the Forbidden Forest, he always has this strange disjointed feeling, like his limbs didn't quite piece themselves together correctly. He always checks to make sure he didn't hurt anyone first, but the second thing he does is to make sure he has all of his fingers and toes and that all of his joints bend the right ways. Sometimes it hurts to do so, especially after he's spent the night locked up by himself, but it's something he has to do.

But even more than that, it's always cold. Even if someone's already draped him in a blanket, even in the middle of the summer, there's this cold that settles into his bones that it takes him a few days to shake.

Which is why he's a little more than mildly surprised to discover that he's warm. Not just superficially but all over, deep into his bones, warm.

Remus blinks a couple of times to get his eyes to focus and looks around. He's in the living room of Sirius' flat, curled up on the floor. It's still early morning from the light, and the flat is silent. Remus sits up with a groan and leans back against the base of the couch. He's still naked, but there's a blanket wrapped around him. The mystery of this is enough to throw off his usual post-moon rituals. How did he get here?

Sirius pokes his head out of the kitchen. "Oh, you're awake, good," he says, disappearing back into the kitchen and returning with a tray. He settles on floor at Remus' side and puts the tray on the floor. It has a cup of Irish Breakfast, a teapot obviously containing the rest of the batch, and a bowl of soup. "Lily sent the soup," Sirius said quietly, "so it's edible. Can you lift it?"

Remus checks his fingers, hands, wrists, elbows, and nods. He doesn't have that disjointed feeling, either, which is almost disconcerting. He heads for the tea first, knowing he won't be able to speak until he's wet his dry throat. "How'd I get here, Pads?' he asks hoarsely once his vocal chords could move again."

"Apparated you here," Sirius says quietly. "Temperature hit record lows last night, didn't want you outside any more than necessary."

"Ta, Pads," Remus says, leaning against Sirius' side. Sirius drapes his arm over Remus' shoulder, blanketing him in heat. Remus puts down the empty teacup and picks up the soup, eating slowly. It's such a small thing, and Sirius' floor isn't very cozy, but it makes Remus feel comfortable and safe in a way he hasn't in a very long time. He drifts to sleep like that, curled into Sirius' side with the bowl of soup in his lap, and he doesn't notice as Sirius presses a kiss into his hair.


End file.
